


Guidance

by Corvus_Aconitum



Category: Grimm
Genre: ...of team dynamics, Gen, Team as Family, kind of character study, slight AU, slightest alpha/ beta/ omega tendencies, taking care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 09:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11688372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvus_Aconitum/pseuds/Corvus_Aconitum
Summary: As the Captain of a precinct you have a responsibility toward your subordinates. You make sure they stay whole and out of trouble.When Nick passes out one night right in his arms, Renard steps in to help. What's happened to Nick and what will Sean do?





	Guidance

**Author's Note:**

> Grimm kink meme made me do this... in some way. This is not a direct prompt fill but after reading through 42 pages of lovely prompts and fills I have officially entered total fluff and care mode.  
> Sooo, what can I say? You might expect many more of these stories in the near future... Grimm Kink Meme is evil... but I love it.  
> As a side note to this story:  
> There are the slightest alpha/ beta/ omega tendencies in this, or at the very least a different approach to how a Captain leads his precinct. This is why it's slight AU, set approximately at in late season 2.
> 
> Important note:  
> I want to say here, that the process of donating blood and related matters are not portrayed realistically. I put it in for story's purposes and it should not be the main focus of this story. Just take the gist of it: Nick tried to do the right thing and did not make matters better for himself.  
> If you want an account of how it is done, there is a good and detailed explanation in the story comments.

 

Guidance:

 

Nick walks through sterile looking white walled corridors, rubbing at his eyes tiredly and yawning widely. They have closed their case, dropped the victim safely off at hospital to get her injuries treated and are finally allowed to seek their bed... well almost allowed to in Nick's case.

 

Hank, practically asleep on his feet, has already been taken home by Wu earlier. When Nick has discreetly asked the Asian to do so he's been given an unimpressed once over. With a tired grin he's assured him that Hank is even worse off than himself and that he still needs to get a file to Frank Rabe, anyway. Wu's intelligent eyes have drilled into him for some more moments – humor for once absent from his face – before he has acquiesced and lead a zombie like Hank to his car for a Wu-ride home.

 

Now Nick is on his own again and honestly, after two days with no sleep and barely any food he's ready to drop right where he stands. There's nothing for it, though. Frank needs that file to make a case against a man, who's been involved in triple homicide, and he needs it tonight. Nick will just drop it off at his home and be done with it. He would have done it earlier but then this absolutely crazy and all-around-the-clock case has come in between. 

 

>>>

 

Fighting off a small bout of dizziness he makes his way toward the hospital’s main entrance. He's near emergency area when he hears the call for help. A nurse rushes out of the doors of ER, comes to a skidding halt in the corridor and shouts:

 

“Is anyone here with the blood type 0+ and is willing to donate? We have a young boy in ER with major blood loss and blood conserves transport is stuck in a major road blockage!”

It takes Nick a moment to register her words and work out their meaning, then he jumps into action.

“I have 0+ and would be willing to donate. My medical file is already in your system as I've been treated here before and I'm also registered in the general blood donation files.”

 

It is an honored tradition among cops to donate blood on regular basis. Doing so now goes without saying... even when he feels ready to drop on the spot. Seeing profound relief light up her face makes it worth already.

“Thank you. What's your name?”

“Nick Burkhardt.”

He follows her lead into ER, exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he focuses on helping out. They view his records briefly before the nurse prepares him for drawing blood. Normally they wouldn't have let him donate in his state, the doctor leaves no doubt about that, but it is an emergency so they cannot effort to be picky.

After giving his blood he waits the standard ten to twenty minutes before letting himself out and going to his car. He delivers the file, acting more on autopilot now than anything else, and then it's a last stop at the station.

 

He is not really sure how he's made it to precinct. One might say he's stupid and careless to ignore his own health like this but in all honesty he's simply gone beyond the point of being able to think clearly... or think at all. The only thought in his head is to get to Renard to report.

 

He's barely able to navigate his way through corridors and main office but goes on anyway. A heavy intake of breath, another one. Nausea and pulsing pressure behind his eyes make staying upright so much more difficult. He pauses at his work table. His vision blurs heavily. He can feel exhaustion pulling him under like quicksand.

 

_Get to the Captain. Focus!_

 

He tries to do just that, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to make the world stop spinning.

 

_Maybe giving blood after everything wasn't such a good idea. Well, it was... for the boy's sake but this constant dizziness is fast becoming a nuisance. The Captain would have my hide, if he saw me like this.... Wait, he will see me like this 'cos I still have to report. And he might have my hide… literally. If rumors hold true he would be allowed to… technically. Damn it!_

 

“Nick! What are you still doing here?”

As if summoned by his thoughts Renard's deep voice reaches him. It sounds far away and yet, when he opens his eyes the man is right in front of him. He takes a step back in alarm at their sudden proximity. He hasn't heard him approach.

 

“Detective, what is the matter?”

 

_Focus, Nick! Told you that already._

 

The Grimm forces himself to keep his eyes open long enough to squint up at the zauberbiest's frowning face. When he does so Renard's eyes widen a fraction in shock before narrowing in thought.

While this shift of expressions largely eludes Nick in his current state, the sharp scrutiny Renard puts him under does not. The man looks annoyed somehow. Why that is the case, Nick does not know.... But he would like to know because avoiding annoying his superior can only be a good thing.

 

“Nick! Do I need to repeat my question yet again? What are you doing here? You look like you are barely able to stand, let alone do Police work. Furthermore Wu already told me about the outcome of your current case. So why are you here?”

 

“Report. 'm here to report.”

Nick says this as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Having made his point he lets his eyes slip closed again. Really, it's one hell of an effort to keep them open. But then again closing them makes the world spin terribly... or was that keeping them open?

 

“Nicholas, look at me!”

So there's that. At least it puts him out of the dilemma to reach a decision. He blinks up owlishly at Renard but finds that going the way he does he only sees the man's chest not his face. And really, he cannot imagine that the Captain would want him to look at his chest. Surely he wants him to look into his eyes....

 

He tilts his head upward but maybe he's tilted it back too far or maybe Renard is just too damn tall....

Whatever it is Nick's world suddenly tilts crazily upward and to the side, his eyes roll into the back of his head and he's rushing toward the floor before he even realizes what's happening.

 

>>>

 

Sean reacts quickly when his Grimm Detective passes out right before his eyes. He catches Nick around the waist before he can hit the ground. They stagger a bit, for Nick may be be shorter than him but his compact, athletic built means more weight than one would think considering his height. In the end he manages to keep them both upright. Fortunately he's half anticipated something like this as soon as he's seen the state his Grimm is in.

 

Overly pale skin, heavy, dark circles under his eyes and complete failure to concentrate on anything in particular for even a short amount of time have all told the experienced 'biest that Nick has been awake and working far too long.

 

Seeing that Nick is out cold and his head lolling against his chest he considers his options:

Precinct is virtually empty, main office vacated except for the two of them. His best choice, really, is to carry him over to the couch in his own office and go from there.

 

>>>

 

He places Nick on the sofa, divests him of his jacket and makes sure to keep his feet slightly elevated. It will help with circulatory weakness and may make him wake up earlier. Nick has obviously dropped from sheer exhaustion and Sean has enough experience with that to help him without involving paramedics just yet. Checking him over and finding nothing overly alarming he sets out to fetch a few things. 

He sets the items down on his work table for later, draws the visitor’s chair over to the sofa and then he waits. If he doesn’t wake up on his own in the next half an hour he will have to call paramedics after all, but for now he’s content to let Nick come around on his own.

 

His thoughts start straying while he watches over the young Detective:

 

As Captain he has a responsibility toward his subordinates and given Portland's wesen heavy history that is a slightly different one compared to other precincts. 

 

Most of his younger Officers and Detectives are not even aware of such a thing existing but the ones longer on the force do know well what the position of a Captain may entail. True, his predecessor has had a more active role in meting out discipline and making sure his subordinates stay hale, healthy and out of trouble, but Sean has found his own way.

 

He's never been given to broadcasting his emotions, some going so far as to say he doesn't have any. But most of them know better. They know, that he cares, that he is damn good at keeping them in line and has his own approach of care taking. A direct one, however, like Captain Jefferson has had in his days is not what he feels comfortable with, apart from one or the other rare event. 

 

Sean has always been proficient at using his own strengths to his advantage, and one of them is excellent observational skills. He has deep insight into people. Their weaknesses, their strengths, their character, and has used this to establish a safety and care system among his men, that is tight knit and functioning well. His Officers know that and have long since learned to appreciate his way of doing things.

 

Wu, for example, may be bodily weaker than Hank but he is easily able to boss the huge man into submission on the rare occasion it becomes necessary to do so.... like today. It’s just in the Asian’s nature. He is always laid back, observes, analyses and acts upon those contemplations. This is where Sergeant Franco comes in. Level-headed, down to earth Franco, who keeps Wu from losing himself in his chess player’s view of the world.

 

And then there is Nick. Despite his heritage he’s never callous or brash, not intent to establish his place as an alpha male on the force like some do. His caring, nurturing side would never let him do that, but it is exactly that, which makes him one of the most fiercely protective persons of his team. He would throw himself in front of any of them without a second thought. It is in moments like these when - ironically - the Grimm in him comes to the fore. This drive to protect makes him do an excellent job but it also makes him do stupid things from time to time with an absolute disregard for his own health.

 

Hank has his back on these occasions, be that to fight alongside of him or to hold him back when impulsiveness pushes him to get into trouble. Griffin’s level-headedness paired with a similar will to see justice done makes them such a good team. 

 

Nick. He looks down on the unconscious man for a long while. 

The Grimm may be the one subordinate, where he has to intervene directly most often, but also where he’s most comfortable with doing it. Which brings them right back to the reason why Sean Renard, half-zauberbiest, Captain and Bastard Prince, finds himself sitting by his side at 11pm with the clear intention of staying and taking care of him as long as it takes to bring him up to normal again. 

 

>>>

 

Nick comes awake to the unforgiving glare of overhead lights, heavy nausea, a throbbing head and the distinct feeling that something is amiss.

 

_Where am I and why the hell do I feel like crap?_

 

He must have made a sound because suddenly there's movement at the edge of his vision. Watching it makes his head start spinning again so he squeezes his eyes shut.

 

_Come on, breathe. Puking your guts out will be one killer of painful! Not good. Breathe, focus... do anything other than dying from your head exploding or throwing up the nothing that's left in your stomach...._

 

“Nick.”

 

It takes him some time to place the voice and find out why to his ears it sounds far away and simultaneously right beside him. When he does he snaps his eyes open with a low groan.

Renard's concerned face swims into view, blurring and clearing in dizzying intervals. He is in the Captain's office, lying on the Captain's couch and knowing absolutely nothing about how he's gotten from main office to here. The fleeting thought of needing to report has him trying to sit up.

 

 _Trying_ being the main subject here. As soon as he makes an attempt to do so large hands grip his shoulders and he is pushed back into the cushions. That's not good at all! Nick doesn't know, if he'll simply pass out, throw up right then and there or if maybe his head will explode after all.

 

“Don't move. You are in no state to sit up.” 

It's difficult to follow a command, if you understand only half of it because its echo mixes with the following words. Nick tries sitting up again, thinking that surely he'll be able to understand the Captain better, if he does so.

 

“Nicholas, stop it! Lie back... and take a breath, damn it.” 

 

There's some alarm to those words, making him wonder what has happened. Much easier to understand are the hands, one of which now rests heavily on his chest while the other has moved to his clammy forehead. No matter if he tries or not, he's simply no match for the Captain holding him down. A bit of his inner struggle must have shown on his face for Renard starts speaking again. This time his tone is deep and his mere presence like a calming force.

He closes his eyes just listening to it, willing the world to stop spinning and his head to stop throbbing.

 

“Go easy. Don't move, just breathe. Yes. Stay put. Good. Keep still so I can take your pulse and fetch something to drink for you.”

 

In accordance to these words one hand moves from his chest to his left wrist while the other stays where it is on his forehead, effectively keeping him down.

 

“That's much too thready for my liking. Nick, when was the last time you slept or ate?”

The Grimm contemplates the question or maybe he has lost consciousness again because when he opens his eyes it is because of a hand slipping beneath his neck and a resolute voice telling him to open his mouth and swallow.

 

After a moment or two the blurry image before him clears enough to make out Renard and a small bottle of coke. The last one is put to lips and sweet liquid fed to him in small sips.

“Good. Now let's see how that stays down.”

Nick doesn't know how long he lies on that couch, waiting to feel better and trying to keep half an eye on his Captain, while the man sits on a chair beside him and watches him like a hawk.

 

When he stops feeling half dead and only wretched he tries focusing on his Captain in earnest. Renard takes up the change at once, aristocratic features going from calculating and slightly worried to somewhere between sympathizing and stern.

 

“Feeling a bit more like yourself?”

 

Nick nods but abandons that as soon as his headache rears up again.

 

“I take that to mean 'barely'. Now back to my earlier question. How long has it been since you last ate or slept?”

There's been a wry quirk to his lips but all too soon his expression turns serious again. He leans back in his chair, seeming nonchalant and yet not losing an inch of his commanding presence.

“Two.”

“Two days, two hours or what?”

Thinking about this is much more difficult than it should be.

“Two days. Hank even more... Carly keeping him 'wake... night before... girl's trouble... boyfriend.”

“Hmm.” Although this is Renard's only reply he still manages to make it sound disapproving. 

The desire to sit up in face of the man's reproach pushes him to search purchase on the back of the couch and lever himself up. He won't get to do so, though, because just then Renard leans forward to pear at something on Nick's arm and almost absentmindedly pushes him back to stay flat. 

 

When Sean has taken the Grimm’s pulse earlier it has been covered by his sleeve but now that he's raised his arm the fabric has slid back to reveal it.

 

“Why is there a band aid on your inner elbow? Wu hasn't said anything about either of you being injured.”

 

It's difficult to keep track of the zauberbiest's mood when every few moments his vision blurs and nausea and pain sweep over him.

“Not injured, just tired.”

Nick tries taking deep breaths. Why isn't he getting better?

“What did they do then? A drugs test? Believe me, Detective, if your behavior made them perform drug tests on you, I wouldn't want to be in your place right now!”

“No, no, no! No drugs test. Nothin' like that. Just been giving them blood.”

“Blood?” The ominous single word question sends a shiver down his spine and the urge to sit up returns with a vengeance.

“Yes. There was a boy who needed blood. I gave it.”

“You did _what?!_ ”

 

That's it! In his exhausted state Renard's incredulous exclamation is perceived as a possible threat! It pushes Nick faster to sitting up than anything else. He wants to turn to the zauberbiest... to be prepared for everything his muddled mind conjures up as possible danger. Yet he will never be able to….

 

It is like somebody has hit him with a sledgehammer! His head throbs like mad! Dizziness and nausea make for such a terrible mix that he's gagging and heaving before he knows what's happened.

It's too much. Someone else's words echo in his ears but he cannot understand them. He slides to the side and would have fallen off the couch if it hadn't been for strong hands catching him.

 

_> >>_

 

He must have passed out again. He's lying on his back, still on the couch... something damp and cold moves over his face and throat, is gently pressed to one spot for a longer time when his return to consciousness is noted. He swallows thickly. His throat is parched, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

 

But the damp cloth feels good. It relieves some of his pain and gives him something to focus on. Yet again he squints up at the only other person in the room.

Renard. Again. Looking openly worried now. Only remembering that vague feeling of danger from before he twitches as if to get up once more.

 

That heavy, warm hand is back on his chest, above his rapidly beating heart. It keeps him down. It calms him down.

“None of that now, Nicholas. Stay right there.”

Nick cannot deny it any longer. Despite what he's felt before the zauberbiest's mere presence acts as a calming anchor for the Grimm. It's always been like this. The man's cool countenance, his quick, intelligent mind, weighing options, always acting with deliberation. It is what has enabled Nick to keep a cool head in so many situations these past years.

 

“What happ'ned?”

“You passed out again. I have soup for you. We need to get your energy levels up, then we'll see about getting you up and about.”

 

Suiting actions to words his head is lifted once more and a cup with lukewarm liquid pressed to his lips. Nick accepts the soup slowly but eagerly. After two days of almost nothing even soup out of station's vending machine sounds heavenly.

 

It seems to have been the right decision. Not only does it stay down but it fills his empty stomach up a bit. After that it's fluids again. Sweetened tea this time.

 

“Why are you... doing this?”

Nick lies with his eyes closed but the question wills out anyway. A sigh from Renard, the sound of a cup set down, then:

 

“You are my responsibility, Nick. I have been remiss in my duty to watch over my Detectives in the last two days. There's been too much to do and too little time but that doesn't mean I am going to look away now. You are exhausted, your energy levels are far below what is healthy and apparently you donated blood when you were in no state to do so. I could simply call an ambulance but as of now I am still hopeful that we can avoid that.”

 

A relieved sigh from Nick has Renard quirk a small smile.

“Don't get all excited. If you want to avoid a trip to hospital you are going to do exactly what I tell you. You need sleep, food and a good bit of rest and I will make damn sure you'll get it. Am I understood?”

 

“Hmm.”

“More of a verbal answer, please.”

Nick recognizes this both as a lesson in subordination and as a way to gauge how much he has recovered. He makes an effort, opens his eyes and seeks out Renard's gaze.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.”

“There's still some soup left and I have an energy bar as well. You're going to eat both before we even attempt to sit you up again.”

“Peachy.”

A dry chuckle.

“Careful, Nicholas. And before I forget, I'm going to take your blood pressure as well.”

Nick frowns in thought even while he obediently sips soup and tea and eats small chunks of energy bar.

“Where did you get a blood pressure meter?” He asks after swallowing another bite. He's beginning to feel better. It's great to be able think again. Really great.

“Men above the age of 40 are advised to keep track of such things, you know?” Is Renard's deadpan reply.

“Really?”

“Generally yes. But I have this one from infirmary. I possess the keys to almost any room in this building. Perks of being the Captain.”

“Hmm.”

 

>>>

 

He watches as Renard slips a sleeve made of sturdy material around his bare upper arm and grimaces when the pressure sleeve cuts off blood flow momentarily. He's never liked the feeling of that.

It's soon over, though, and Renard seems to be content enough with the results.

“I think we may attempt to get you up and moving. No use in delaying it any longer. You need a bed instead of this couch for a decent night's sleep.”

“I’m all with you there.”

 

>>>

 

Nick is sitting upright and oh, he wishes he's never let the zauberbiest help him up. The world is spinning around him (though not as bad as before) and his head is still throbbing mightily. Renard is there, pressing another cold compress onto his neck to ward off nausea and help with the headache.

“Take deep breaths. It will get better soon. Your body needs time to get accustomed to the new position.”

“Yeah.” He reconsiders talking soon after, when that nearly sets off another bout of heaving up what they have so painstakingly fed him.

 

“Do you think we can attempt standing now?”

This time Nick is able to talk and nod without any major setbacks.

“Yeah, let's try. It's not bound to get much better, anyway.”

 

>>>

 

He’s bundled into the Captain’s car with the firm order to empty another 0,5 liter bottle of coke during the ride. He really tries but at some point he must have fallen asleep, because he is shaken awake some time later to find the car parked on the curb in front of his house. 

 

He would have liked to say that sleeping did some good but, frankly, it’s more like he’s gone into exhaustion mode completely now that he’s gotten a taste of real sleep.

 

He’s barely aware of his seat belt being unfastened or being carefully pulled out of the car. His head is leaning on something soft yet unyielding, that may or may not be the Captain’s shoulder. He’s walking without ever making a conscious decision to and in the end he’s deposited to sit on his bed and told to stay put.

 

_That was weird. How did I come here?_

 

He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes.

 

_Come on, focus, will you? At least make an effort to do whatever you should do when your Captain has the courtesy to drop you off at home._

 

This helps somewhat and for the first time since leaving precinct he’s actually aware of his surroundings. He knows he should do something… something for himself other than breathing and wasting space… maybe offer Renard coffee… he cannot bring himself to do so. Just now sitting upright and staying awake is more than enough. 

 

When the man returns from downstairs with a jug of water and a glass he shakes himself out of his stupor. Time to bid the Captain farewell and actually start fending for himself.

„Thank you, Sir, for putting up with me and driving me home. I’ll manage from here.“

When he says it like this he nearly believes himself. Renard seems to think along the same lines. The trace of a smile lingers on his lips as he gives him a thorough once over.

 

„I am certain you won’t manage on your own but you can help out by washing and changing.“

„Hey. Not very … supportive.“

It is a half-hearted protest, interrupted by a jaw cracking yawn that’s somehow snuck up on him.

Renard has the gall to smirk at this.

„The need to be supportive to keep you from crashing on our way upstairs led me to that conclusion, so your argument strikes me as invalid.“

 

Nick rises from the bed with a low noise that could be everything from ’fuck off‘ to reluctant agreement but the zauberbiest let’s it slide one way or another. Also uncommented goes the fact, that Sean keeps a firm hold on his arm to get him safely to the bathroom.

 

„Don’t lock the door. You know I have no qualms about kicking it in should I hear crashing sounds from within and find myself unable to open it.“

 „Yes, Sir.“ 

The Captain pins him with a searching gaze to make sure it hasn’t been an automatic reply, then he lets him off into the bathroom.

 

>>>

 

Nick is sitting up in bed, blanket pulled up to his waist and doing his best to look at his Captain without his eyes falling closed on their own accord. He might have been embarrassed at being seen in only a t-shirt and boxers, but after being carried, fed and being held by this man while heaving, this ranks quite low on his embarrassment scale.

 

The zauberbiest actually sits on the edge of his bed, something that should be embarrassing, too, but only gives him a vague feeling of comfort. In for a penny, in for a pound. Renard may think him either childish or adorable (both outcomes undesirable to say the least) but he cannot help rubbing at his tired eyes.

„Sorry.“ He mumbles sheepishly. His eyes snap up from where he’s stared at the blanket when a large hand comes to rest on his shoulder and stays there. Maybe it’s meant to keep him from swaying on the spot, something he has noticed doing but cannot prevent for the life of him. Whatever the reason, he may not be used to Renard acting as caring as right now, but it isn’t unwelcome either.

„No need to apologize. You and Hank have done a good job today. I am aware that this case has been a trying one.“

Nick blushes at the rare praise. 

„Umm, we had little choice but to pull through. So… ummm… yeah.“

He trails off unsure, to which the Captain quirks a tiny smile.

 

„I bet you are more than ready to drop. Let me just make a few things clear first. You are to take tomorrow off, doing nothing other than sleep, eat and rest. Understood?“

„Yes, Sir.“

„Good. One last thing then.“

The grip on his shoulder turning to iron has Nick on high alert despite crushing tiredness.

„If you pull a stunt like this ever again, involving no _sleep_ or _food_ for two days, _donating blood_ and _driving_ afterwards, I will take you over my knee and give you the walloping of your life! Are we clear?“

 

Suffice to say when his charismatic zauberbiest Captain leans forward until they are practically nose to nose to utter these ominous words Nick is more than ready to promise to be good.

„Yes, Sir!“

Those watchful green keep hold of his own until he's apparently satisfied with what he sees, then he rises with a curt nod. The Grimm huffs a bit, torn between giving his Captain a dirty look for this evil thread and submitting completely to make sure he doesn't do it now already.

He wouldn’t be Nick Burkhardt, if he didn’t comment on it in any way, however.

 

„Are you even allowed to do so?“

 

Renard raises an eyebrow.

„Do you intent to find out?“

„No, I would rather not. And I’ve heard rumors from those longer on the force… so no.“

The Bastard Prince smirks at these sullen words.

„Then I am sure we understand each other. Good night, Detective. I don’t want to see you at the station before Wednesday, and before you ask, I will tell Hank the same.“

Nick looks torn between blanching and being amused.

„Exactly the same?“

Renard’s level gaze clearly tells him to cut down on sassiness but there’s also a spark of reluctant humor in his eyes.

„Why don’t you ask him when you next see him? It should be fun to hear how he reacts to the promise I made to you.“

Nick glowers and would have replied immediately, if it hadn’t been for another traitorous yawn overcoming him.

„You are evil.“

„And you should sleep now. Good night.“

Sean fetches his coat from the chair in the corner.

„G’ night.“

He turns around to find Nick already buried under the covers (literally for there is only a dark mob of hair peeking out). He contemplates saying something but he already hears the Grimm’s breathing evening out in sleep, and isn’t that what’s he wanted from the beginning?

 

He leaves the house on silent feet and with the curious feeling, that being directly involved in keeping someone hale, healthy and out of trouble is not as uncomfortable as he has feared.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is how Renard keeps his men out of trouble. What do you think? Do you want a sequel about a time when Nick manages to get himself in trouble yet again and Sean fulfills his promise? (Yep, that would involve spanking....)


End file.
